


Werewolf Boyfriend

by crookedneighbour



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Quentin Beck, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire Slayer, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Breeding, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, First Time, Kissing, Knotting, M/M, Monsters, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pheromones, Porn With Plot, Quentin Beck Being a Jerk, Size Kink, Stomach Bulge, Villain Quentin Beck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: Peter meets a werewolf while he's out monster hunting. He gets a whole lot more than he expected.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 184
Collections: Spiderio 18+ Exchange April 2020





	Werewolf Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starkangejr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkangejr/gifts).



According to Aunt May, Peter had spent most of his summer going to Ned’s for sleepovers and summer review sessions. In actuality, he’d been patrolling Calvary Cemetery for new vampires. It turned out he wasn’t the only one with that idea. The graveyard had also attracted the attention of a werewolf.

Peter was yet to meet it face on, but the past few full moons he had seen it pacing the graveyard and tearing into anything that moved. It was a sensible place to go to transform. Most werewolves weren’t malicious and with the cemetery often empty at night, it minimized your chances of hurting someone. If he approached the creature around sunrise he could probably befriend him in human form. Hunting was a lonely life after all. With Tony gone, Peter had struggled.

Ned was a good ear, but it wasn’t the same as having someone out there with him. He would never tell Ned this of course. Ned's research helped on the field, but it just wasn’t the same.

It was mid-July when the next full moon came. Peter spent the night dusting vampires and following the werewolf at a distance as he stalked his prey. As it grew closer to sunrise, Peter found himself growing weary. Even with his superior strength and endurance, it was a long time to stay awake.

In one of his off moments he mispositioned himself, a vampire getting a scratch in on him as he drove the stake into its heart. It was nothing he couldn’t easily heal, but a long howl came from the direction of the wolf. The creature could likely smell his blood.

The werewolf approached quickly. This wasn’t the same as dealing with vampires. Werewolves didn’t need to kill to survive and were victims in their way. If he could hold off on hurting the man beneath, he ought to.

Peter checked his watch. It was close to sunrise and he could probably kite the werewolf until the sun came up. Peter let out a sigh. Let the chase begin.

Even in his exhaustion, Peter was fast. He let the beast closer so he could track it as the sun rose, but kept it far enough to be safe. This was the closest the two of them had been.

The sun finally crept above the horizon and Peter approached the werewolf. As the light slowly poured over the werewolf reverted to his human form.

In the wake of the beast was a good looking man dressed in a turtleneck and khakis laying on his back. Peter was relieved his clothes shifted along with him, not having considered what finding a naked man in a graveyard would be like.

“Uh…. Hi there,” started the man. He looked dazed. “You still smell like blood…”

“You’re not still going to try and eat me are you?” Peter asked.

“I don’t think so… “

The man stood up slowly and held forward a hand. And so Peter Parker met Quentin Beck.

Over the next couple of months, Peter no longer fought alone. Quentin became his constant companion on the night shifts, strong and fast enough in human form to handle his own. The two of them traded technique, and often after the long nights they’d travel to the diner near Quentin’s subway stop together for breakfast.

The two of them would trade laughs over scrambled eggs and hashbrowns, Quentin often downing several cups of coffee. Around him, the loneliness ebbed in Peter. There was someone else like him in the world, and that someone had agreed to help show him the way.

When the animal part of Quentin’s brain saw Peter, it said to fuck him senseless. The kid even smelled like sex to Quentin. Not that he thought Peter was anything other than a virgin, but rather something about how he smelled, made Quentin utterly hungry for him.

He’d bid his time over the summer, slowly befriending Peter and earning his trust. Come the fall it would be time to reap what he sewed. This Halloween, the rift between worlds would open and he’d make Peter his mate. With the rest of his pack dead at Stark’s hands, this would be the revenge he deserved.

Peter didn't expect to spend his Halloween getting railed by a werewolf, but it turned out that was what the night had in store. He especially didn't expect it to be, Quentin Beck, the man who had become a mentor and friend to him over the summer. What he had expected was for his hero crush to fade away after he got to know the man better, not turn into an obsession-- especially not a reciprocated one.

The whole month something about how Quentin had smelled had made Peter weak in the knees. It was getting distracting. When the two of them hunted together, even just a smile from Quentin had Peter blushing and semi-erect.

Quentin had very nicely invited Peter over to help hand out candy before going hunting that evening. Halloween wasn't a big night for vampires per se, but other weirder stuff tended to show up around then. When he'd gotten there, Quentin had a set of fuzzy ears clipped to his head and a comedically fake.

“Too on the nose?” Quentin had asked. Peter had laughed in response. He'd come in just dark jeans and a black t-shirt. Better to dress practically since he wouldn't have the time to change at home.

Now though, rather than hunting, he'd found his way into Quentin's bedroom.

It'd started with eating the leftover mini-Snickers. Quentin had held out the last one for Peter to take, and something in Peter's very bisexual lizard brain had said to eat it from the man's hand instead. Quentin had swallowed hard immediately and watched Peter carefully as he chewed and swallowed. Instead of chastising him or being weirded out, Quentin had instead brought their mouths together, his tongue teasing at Peter's lips. It had been everything Peter hoped, albeit a little awkward.

Quentin's scent had overpowered him this close. That and the proximity of their bodies had made him instantly and achingly erect.

“We can't have you going out distracted,” Quentin had hummed looking down at the tent in Peter's tight jeans. The warmth and lust in his voice were almost straight out of Peter's private sticky dreams of the man. Before Peter could protest, not that he wanted to protest, Quentin had picked Peter up in his arms.

Laying on his back in Quentin's bed felt surprisingly natural. The room was sparse as the rest of the house, and the bed was thankfully a king size. Peter figured he used the extra room when he went to bed transformed.

Quentin stood at the foot of the bed and tugged his shirt off, costume ears falling aside. He was thickly muscled, with fuzz trailing across his body. Peter couldn't help but gasp.

“Better than you imagined?” Quentin asked with a cocky smile. Peter nodded, biting his lip. He certainly had imagined Quentin shirtless. His go-to fantasy these days was Quentin coming out of the shower with a towel around his waist, and water beading down his broad chest.

Peter mirrored his mentor's action and removed his shirt. He was lean compared to Quentin, but his body was well-defined. Quentin began to remove his pants, but Peter didn't know if his brain could handle seeing Quentin's bulge in a pair of briefs yet.

“Could you kiss me a little more, first?” Peter interrupted. “You really are everything I've wanted, and I wanna take my time with it....”

Quentin nodded.

“Maybe we should have done this sooner,” he hummed, moving on top of Peter.

Now was, in fact, the perfect time, and fucking Peter any earlier would have been comparable to eating fruit before it was ripe. Even if Quentin’s dick ached to breed the kid.

Quentin pinned Peter beneath him and brought their lips together again. Peter yielded easily this time, Parting his lips and squirming his hips as they kissed.

As they pulled back Quentin sighed. He would have preferred to surprise Peter with his transformation, but he didn’t want the kid to get so startled the pheromone spell broke either.

As he pulled back, Quentin frowned a little.

“So… uh..sometimes… when I get excited I start to transform a bit,” Quentin said slowly, trying to act as if that wasn’t precisely what he wanted.

Peter looked up at him with blown pupils, brows furrowed in response.

“Oh…”

Peter blushed and looked aside before returning his gaze to Quentin.

“I mean… That’s just who you are, right? So if I like you…. That means liking that part of you too…”

Peter was bright red and on the border of stammering the entire time. It was maddening how cute he was. He had the type of face Quentin wanted to break, both physically and metaphorically.

“It means a lot to me that you understand that,” Quentin replied, planting a kiss on Peter’s neck. God, was he trusting. Stark really should have taught him better. Either way, Stark’s loss was his gain.

“Mr. Beck,” Peter gasped in response. The kid’s skin was still smooth, any body hair still yet to grow in-- perfect to sink his teeth into. The thought of tearing into the kid mid-fuck was perfect, everything about it only heightened the ache between his legs.

“I think I need to turn you over,” Quentin growled, allowing himself to softly bite at Peter’s throat.

“I’ve never…,” Peter mumbled.

“I know, kid,” Quentin said with a laugh. “You kinda make it obvious.”

Quentin dismounted from Peter. The two of them undressed each other all too slowly for Beck’s taste, Peter begging Quentin to touch every inch of skin he revealed.

With Beck’s hands for guidance, Peter got on his hands and knees, arching his hips back up towards Quentin. With the full shape of Peter’s ass on display to him, Quentin felt his transformation wash over him.

Peter had never seen Quentin transform, nor had he seen the man changed outside the full moon. He wasn’t sure if turned on was the appropriate response to the occasion, but there was something about knowing he made Quentin transform that made his stomach flip. Maybe it was that things were a little dangerous. Maybe it was the whole hairy older guy taken to the extreme-- maybe it was that whatever that smell Quentin had around him that made Peter think of sex seemed to be amplifying.

Peter felt like he couldn’t think anymore. Quentin’s muscles bulged as thick hair covered his body. The man’s face lengthed into a snout and his ears grew long and pointed. His blue eyes turned narrow with slitted pupils, and the man’s normally cat-like grin became fanged. Claws grazed against Peter’s hips, yet not hard enough to draw blood.

Peter felt something warm and slick press between his thighs, and he was suddenly aware of how big Quentin was in every sense. Peter had fought werewolves before, but right now he was at Quentin’s mercy, vulnerable and about to be split open-- and he wanted it more than he’d wanted any other fantasy. Beck’s erection had noticeably grown in both thickness and length with a sizable knot at the base of it.

Peter’s head pounded in time with his pulse, and his limbs felt weak. Despite his disorientation what he could tell, is his cock was leaking and Beck had begun to rut between his cheeks.

“You’re mine, Peter,” Quentin snarled, his voice deeper. He sounded a bit unhinged.

Quentin’s placed the tip of his cock against Peter’s entrance with little warning.

“Look at you, spreading your legs for a monster,” he added, now pressing his way into Peter’s opening. Every inch he pressed in was bliss, Peter’s insides clenching around him and pulling him closer to a mind-numbing climax. Sex in his true form was like nothing his human form could offer.

“You’re not a monster, Beck,” Peter insisted. “You’re a good man.”

He could perfectly hear every little whimper Peter made as he pressed into the bed, and could see every detail of Peter’s response, down to the goose pimples on his arms and the slight bulge that was already beginning to form in his stomach. As Quentin pressed deeper, the swell of Peter’s belly grew, his body pushed to its limits.

Tears formed in Peter’s eyes as Quentin rocked inside him, his body struggling with the bulge of his knot.

“You ready to get bred? Once you take this you’ll be my mate, Parker,” Quentin grunted.

“Yes, Mr. Beck,” Peter replied. His body was arched gracefully despite his rather compromised position, the curve of his stomach contrasting his slender physique.

“I bet my human form won't be big enough for you anymore. My little monster hunter is a size king, isn’t he?” Beck added. Peter could probably only take him because of his regeneration, but who cared. The kid would recover.

“Yes, sir.”

The title was very nice. Almost enough to make him come.

“Call me that again, Peter,” Quentin ordered. “Tell me how you want my knot.”

“I like how big you are, sir,” Peter murmured. “I wanna take your knot, sir.”

Quentin thrust deeper this time, forcing the entirety of his member inside Peter.

Peter had never felt anything like this in his life. Every nerve in his body was tingling but more than anything he felt spread to his limit. It hurt, taking so much inside him, but he also felt warm all over and like he might burst from the pleasure of it.

“I wanna finish with it still in me,” he confessed. At another time, confessing such a thing would have mortified him, but he belonged to Beck now. If beck wanted to dig his claws in, he could; if Beck wanted to fuck Peter till he couldn't walk, he could.

“Then be a good boy, and come for daddy.”

That was a word he’d imagined calling Quentin before, but it usually made him so hot with shame he’d find himself tearing up as he came into his hand.

“Yes, daddy,” Peter answered. It felt good to finally say the word aloud, cathartic.

With Quentin practically rearranging his insides, Peter came himself. The sensation started in his groin and spread to his thighs until he was shaking all over.

“Harder please, Beck. I wanna be your mate. I love how big you are.”

Peter spat his words out in a garbled string, barely able to compose himself.

“I knew you’d love being stuffed with monster cock,” Quentin returned.

As Quentin climaxed his body began to revert.

Quentin dug his claws in before they reverted back to his human form, leaving log red marks along Peter’s hips. Fucking Peter had been just as good as he imagined, but it was time to really drive the knife in so to speak.

Peter had slumped down onto the bed as Quentin pulled out, sticky with sweat and flushed.

“Peter…. Would it be totally crazy if I said I loved you?” he asked, running a hand down Peter’s back.

“Do you mean it, Mr. Beck?”

Peter forced himself onto his back, wincing as he moved.

“Of course, I do,” Beck lied.

Peter beamed at him. Stark’s protege was his now.

“Oh my god, I’m living the Internet’s dreams,” Peter suddenly blurted out.

“What?”

Quentin had forgotten how weird Peter could be sometimes.

“I’ve got a werewolf boyfriend.”

  
  
  



End file.
